Fritos

I have to say, first off, that this isn't as much a post as it is a short story I wrote last year that I really like. I hope you enjoy!

Fritos

It all started with the Fritos. It was the Fritos that took the warmth of dislike and fanned it into a flame of passionate hatred.

You see, we started dating. He was relatively attractive and I was naive. I liked him, I really did, but one day we were hanging out and he had these Fritos. I love Fritos, so I went to grab some. He firmly shook his head.

"I never share my Fritos."

And from that moment on our relationship has just gone downhill. There he sat, talking and laughing with his mouth full of Fritos like he ruled the world. Crunching them with his mouth wide open, rubbing his enjoyment in my hungry face.

I know it's irrational, but I hated him.

"I never share my Fritos."? What kind of rule was that? An idiot rule, that's what.

Oh, how I hated him.

Ever since then I found more reasons to hate him. He irons his towels, and his second toe is bigger than the first, and sometimes he says I'm crazy.

That's why I went to his house today with a bag of poisoned Fritos. I just smiled, handed them too him, and said good bye.

So, that's about it. It's a really, really, short story. But I found it amusing, so hopefully you did too. Anyway, I'm off.